


Safe in the Boundaries of War

by TheGrammarHawk



Series: Verdant Flower, Crimson Wind [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Found Family, Friendship, Literal Sleeping Together, Multi, Verdant Flower/Crimson Wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrammarHawk/pseuds/TheGrammarHawk
Summary: The final battle with the Kingdom approaches. Byleth takes the time to look over all of his companions the night before.
Relationships: Alois Rangeld & Bernadetta von Varley, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht & Hilda Valentine Goneril, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Catherine/Shamir Nevrand, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary/Bernadetta von Varley, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Flayn & Seteth (Fire Emblem), Hapi/Constance von Nuvelle, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Leonie Pinelli, Manuela Casagranda/Hanneman von Essar, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Minor or Background Relationship(s), My Unit | Byleth & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor
Series: Verdant Flower, Crimson Wind [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586869
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Safe in the Boundaries of War

**Author's Note:**

> if you're not familiar w my twins, they're both called Byleth! Bylad is the professor of BE, Bylass is the professor of GD, and the BL students mentioned are all GD recruits. finally decided to give the wolves some love too, not Super spoilery but like. whatever floats ur boat. once again, not hugely necessary to read other fics in the series to enjoy this one.
> 
> i haven't slept in a couple days so i hope y'all like it lmao

War never did go easily. There were always going to be obstacles that prevented a swift battle, an easy ride, a good night’s sleep.

They had been  _ so  _ close to Fhirdiad when the blizzard hit. Just one more day’s ride, one ride and they’d be in for the battle of their lives.

Byleth wanted to call it the final battle, but he knew better. There were threats beyond the mad king of Faerghus. Threats even, perhaps, beyond Rhea, beyond the church.

He exhaled slowly, shaking his head slightly, carefully. No, there would be no thinking of that. Before they fought what hid in the dark they had to take out the threat that roamed in the daylight.

Before that, even, all they needed now was rest.

They had found a dilapidated, hardly standing building in the nearest town to the road they had used for travels. The area itself was in disarray, and the villagers had agreed to put up their animals in the remaining stables on the condition that they paid in full and did not bring violence to the town. They had faced enough hardship under Faerghus’ slow, yet constant, ruin.

There was no room in the inn to board them. Most of the town lived there as it was. But this building was empty and still, it stood, so they would make do.

Only one of the rooms seemed truly intact. It was a larger one, its original purpose no longer known, but the stone walls insulated them, and the mounted torches they lit provided light and meager warmth. There was even the luxury of one fireplace, carefully stoked to warm them - perhaps it was no longer winter in the Kingdom, but it was still far too cold to be comfortable.

The torches had mostly burnt out, now, leaving only a small glow from the hearth to light the room. Byleth still couldn’t sleep, endeavoring instead to continue watching his companions under the illusion of keeping them safe. His sister hadn’t argued with him when he phrased it like that.

He was certain she knew the truth, of course. She simply allowed him to use the lie this time.

She and all of her once-students, all of those who had come from the church, as well, slept. His old students, too, only gave deep breaths and faint twitches that associated with sleep, which, well, was impressive, really.

Alois slept sitting up against the door, head dipped, soft snores escaping him. His cape had been thrown over Bernadetta, whose head rested on his knee, bare of armor. Byleth watched as, every so often, Alois’ fingers would ghost through her hair. Perhaps it was something he had once done with his own daughter. Regardless, he appreciated how at ease Bernadetta was around him.

Hanneman slept near the fire, Manuela half ready to slip off from where she rested against his shoulder. Even Byleth allowed his lips to curve at the sight, one so odd that he never would have considered it in his academy days.

Cyril and Lysithea were bundled up next to the fire, as well. Between Lysithea’s frailties and Cyril’s apparent distaste for the cold, both of them had each managed to steal warmth from their older companions - Hanneman had offered Lysithea his coat, for one, and Shamir had tossed her travel cloak onto Cyril without much decorum. Now the two were snuggled up tightly together, Cyril’s head tucked under Lysithea’s chin as his nose pressed into her neck, seeking warmth.

Shamir was tucked under Catherine’s arm, both of them having offered their warmer things to those who seemed cold. Neither looked particularly bothered by this, even in sleep, if the smoothed-out brows showed anything.

Catherine’s cloak had been offered to Seteth and Flayn, who already had thick travelling blankets besides. After the continued risks they had faced in previous journeys to Faerghus, it was agreed by everyone that it was better to be safe than sorry. Now, so far into their journey together, it appeared that Seteth had finally agreed to comply.

Flayn had always been quick to admit her true nature once it had been made quite clear that their entire party knew, but Seteth had hardly bent. Byleth could not blame him, even if it frustrated him deeply: everyone else’s secrets had been public for so much longer, and part of the reason this war was taking place at  _ all  _ was because of the church’s secrets.

As such, Byleth could not help but feel some sort of aching warmth at the sight of the saints with their guards down. It was a buried, tightly hidden feeling, yet he could not deny that any sort of openness the two shared with the rest put him at ease, even if it was the smallest of things.

For example, Seteth not caring that his hair was mussed enough to show pale, pointed ears, despite how many surrounded him and Flayn. Byleth had bared his weaknesses to the man, himself: Seteth had seen his sister at her most vulnerable more times than Byleth could count, Seteth knew the affairs of the strike force, Seteth knew just how far Byleth would go for Edelgard in his love. To finally be given the trust of being open with his identity was enough to let Byleth consider that, perhaps, after the war, they could be friends.

This was  _ especially  _ true considering the fact that the old Wolves had joined them for this final battle. More often than not, since the two factions had joined together, the four of them remained at Garreg Mach while the army went on missions: they would hold the fort should anything go wrong, both above and below ground. To see Hilda asleep against Balthus’ shoulder was endearing, almost as much as the way Marianne’s head lay pillowed in Hilda’s lap, hair down and free of braids.

Nearby, Hapi sat up with her arms around Constance, holding her close to her breast as the dark flier slept half bent-over, Hapi’s nose buried in her hair.

Along the wall, Yuri and Ashe slept upright as well, back-to-back. Ashe’s head rested against Yuri’s shoulder as the trickster’s own bent forward, both sleeping peacefully despite the fact that they, out of everyone save Byleth himself, seemed most ready to jump up and fight should the need allow it.

Perhaps they both fell under his sister’s jurisdiction, but Byleth still felt a sharp pain knowing why that likely was. He could always empathize with the idea of hard-earned trust in dark places.

Leonie seemed to have stolen Lorenz’s own winter cloak; Byleth recalled the teasing of the event as she had claimed that it was a ‘service to the commoners’ that he share his things with her. At least it had ended well, given the way the two were pressed together under it. They’d come far since being students, the both of them.

Linhardt, meanwhile, was completely engulfed by Caspar. Head resting on his bicep as though it was the most comfortable pillow, both of Caspar’s arms wrapped about Linhardt and kept him so tightly pulled to his chest that only dark strands of green were visible of the mage.

Ignatz and Raphael were similar, except for the fact that Ignatz was still visible from where he was curled on Raphael’s arm. It was fair, however, given the situation. Those two were better off with spare room to breathe; Caspar, however, would not hesitate to let Linhardt bury himself away from the world, especially with the worst battle yet at hand. It had taken long enough to get Linhardt to even the point of sleeping, something that hadn’t happened since near the start of the war.

Dorothea wasn’t in much of a better state herself. Even so, she never did seek to hide away. Instead she seemed all too comfortable sleeping with Petra’s head on her stomach as they lay perpendicular to one another, given that Bernadetta was not, at the moment, positioned between them in slumber. All blankets they had were allocated to Petra, the princess herself appearing to be Dorothea’s for the night.

Sylvain and Felix were as entangled together as they possibly could be; Byleth wasn’t even sure how they could be comfortable sleeping in such a way. For once it was Sylvain’s head tucked just under Felix’s chin, Felix’s hands clasped behind Sylvain’s neck. Felix’s lips remained pressed to Sylvain’s forehead as the redhead buried his own to the pulse point on Felix’s neck, their legs intertwined as they lay without cloak nor blanket. They were the most used to the Faerghus cold of everyone, after all. Better give their supplies to those who would actually need them.

Ferdinand and Hubert, too, were in what some might have considered to be an unusual position. It was Hubert who was held close, face flush with Ferdinand’s breast, ear over his heart, as Ferdinand’s hands tangled into the black locks. Such open affection was not expected from them, specifically from Hubert, but with tensions running high and so little left to claim in the war for Fódlan, it appeared that modesty was damned when in the company of friends.

No, not quite friends.

Family. After everything they had all been through, they were family.

Yes, Byleth could agree to that. Family extended beyond the small frame of his sister pressed up along his side, the back of her head easily able to knock against his hip should she move in her rest. Snuggled against her with his own vendetta against the cold was Claude, curled up surprisingly small as he attempted to practically fuse with her under the cloaks shielding them from the dry air. Only wisps of his thick hair were visible, face deeply pressed into what his peers had playfully claimed to be ‘the best pillow in all of Fódlan’, though he hadn’t much choice in his position with how tightly Byleth held him to her.

Byleth himself was in no place to judge how clingy his sister was. After all, half curled into his own lap was the emperor he had once abandoned his very twin for, the woman tiny and deceivingly nonthreatening where she lay. He allowed himself to stroke his fingers through the long white hair, allowed himself to feel the warmth of his sister against his side, allowed himself to take one last furtive glance about the room at all of his most treasured companions before finally opting to close his eyes.

It would not be the last time he would do such, even if it meant clawing into the deepest trenches of his mind, his  _ sister’s  _ mind, to call upon Sothis so that every member of this fledgling family of his would come out alive.


End file.
